


Fear

by ALilyPea (alilypea)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilypea/pseuds/ALilyPea
Summary: Steve Rogers has been scared of guns since the age of eight. He’d never seen a gun, never held one but the haunted look on his mother’s face when she’d seen his mark had dictated he never would. Even if it meant never meeting his soulmate.~So you’re the one who shot me in the back six times.~





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a fill of a prompt at comment_fic on lj but I read the prompt wrong :S but here it is anyway! Please don't hate me and be kind. I don't really do well with criticism.

Steve Rogers has been scared of guns since the age of eight. He’d never seen a gun, never held one but the haunted look on his mother’s face when she’d seen his mark had dictated he never would. Even if it meant never meeting his soulmate. 

~So you’re the one who shot me in the back six times.~

His soulmark scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to be someone who hurt others, especially without justification, which is what he felt the mark meant. 

So he grew up to try to be the kind of man who wouldn’t need a gun; Who could use his fists, and in time a shield to defend himself. It almost got him killed a time or two, and certainly got him yelled at in basic when it was revealed he routinely took the bullets out of his gun rendering it useless. 

He was the kind of man who would push his best friend’s hand away when he was offered a gun, ignoring the look of frustration on Bucky’s face. 

“No,” Steve shook his head.

And then Bucky fell. 

He wondered if he’d taken the gun if it could’ve prevented it. 

He went under.

He surfaced.

His mark remained, as ruby red and vibrant against his skin as it had the day it had appeared. 

His soulmate was still alive? 

Steve gritted his teeth, and bore the pain of living as a man out of time. 

The chitauri came. The return of Hydra. Bucky. The Winter Soldier. 

And Steve just kept going. His shield, and his fists. Both bloodied, and scarred. 

\---

“You need to have more fun,” Clint told him, clapping him on the shoulder and ignoring how he jumped. 

Damn spies. 

He smiled apologetically at Clint for even thinking it. But really, bells like Tony wanted might become a thing. 

“I have fun,” He insisted.

Clint chuckled, shaking his head. “Not the kind of fun you should be having, c’mon, you have to see what Tony did to the gym.”

“Oh shit,” Steve muttered, but he followed Clint just the same. 

“I’m not sure what this is,” He muttered to Clint moments later as he stared around the gym at what looked like a bizarre obstacle course.

“Paintball,” Clint said with the kind of glee that made Steve step away from him for a moment. 

Clint could be disturbing when it came to any projectiles of any kind. 

“Paintball?” Steve arched an eyebrow. 

“Paintball,” Clint confirmed like that meant something. “Let’s get you geared up.” 

Steve sighed and went along with it, sure he wouldn’t have any fun at all.

He was completely and utterly wrong. 

It was glorious. Especially since he won. 

“I can’t believe...you don’t even….” Clint sputtered, covered from head to toe in paint. 

“Well, at least it’s your favourite colour,” Steve told him, shrugging as he lifted his own face mask. 

“You don’t even use guns!” 

Steve chuckled, “This is not a gun, it’s an avenue for projecting my favourite art medium onto whatever canvas I see fit.” 

“Who knew Captain America could be such a dick?” Clint mumbled, bitter, but smiling. 

“I had a feeling,” one of their opponents approached, mask still on. “Can’t believe you didn’t, Barton, he’s a world class troll.”

Steve turned to look at them, smiling crookedly. 

“So you’re the one that shot me in the back six times,” she said as she lifted her mask and glared at him playfully. 

And Steve Rogers who had avoided guns his entire damn life hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. 

\-----

“Oh god I fainted in front of you,” Steve said as soon as he opened his eyes and saw her kneeling beside him, the gym emptied of people.

“Do you know how much of an ego booster those words were my entire life? Somehow I automatically knew I would be just an awesome person,” she said. “My name is Darcy, by the way, Darcy Lewis. One of the few of the population of people BORN with soulmarks.” She extended her hand. 

Steve took her hand as he sat up, smiling. “I’ve been scared of guns my entire life.”

“Oh shit, oh man,” Darcy shook her head. “You probably thought you were going to grow up to be some psychopath. I’m so sorry, but hey, way to turn it around and all.” 

“Thank you?” Steve responded, finding her almost distracting. “We should go eat. Dinner. Together?” 

Darcy grinned and nodded her head. “It’s the least I owe you, for making you think you would end up being The Punisher.” 

“The Punisher?” Steve asked, standing up he helped her up this time. “Tell me more at dinner?” 

Darcy kissed his cheek. “Meet me in a half hour, communal kitchen. See you then, soldier.” She winked and walked out of the room, leaving him staring in her wake.

“What a day,” Steve muttered. Guess he would have to do the mandatory gun course after all.


End file.
